World's Apart
by Wyck
Summary: "The Embassy has reached a verdict; you are no longer welcome on Vulcan. Your leave is effective as soon as you are ready to depart." K/S
1. World's Apart

Okay, Hi.

This is my first ST ff and I haven't seen much of the original series so if their are any obnoxiously obvious errors feel free to point them out. Just remember, this is an AU so it is going to stray from the canon story line quite a bit.

The song for Spock's part was Bohemian Rapsody by Queen

and for Kirk's was Celebrity Status by Marianas Trench

* * *

Worlds Apart~

"The Embassy has reached a verdict; you are no longer welcome on Vulcan. Your leave is effective as soon as you are ready to depart."

When 13 year old Spock heard these words (straight from his father's stoic mouth) he was not surprised. His presence on Vulcan was a long debated topic; exhausted by scholars and ambassadors who made their distaste for the Vulcan-Human hybrid known. (_He's not truly Vulcan…He cannot follow our rigorous ways…) _

So no, Spock knew this was coming. He had just foolishly believed his father wouldn't let it happen.

Sarek and him were seated across from each other at the dinner table, Spock's long slender fingers curled around a piece of fruit. The juicy light pink fruit had been halfway to the boy's mouth but after Sarek finished speaking he couldn't seem to raise his hand any further. I-Chaya bumped his massive head against the boy's arm, knocking the fruit to the ground where the Sehlat lapped it up.

"Spock."

Where there was normally a disapproving edge to his father's tone, Spock could detect nothing. Emotionless; a true Vulcan. He swallowed, throat feeling uncomfortably dry and raw. "Yes Father?"

"Do you comprehend my previous statement?"

Spock lowered his hazel eyes to his hands. With nothing to hold they were resting uselessly in his lap. He noticed a loose thread on the hem of his tunic and made a mental note to cut it later. "I…do father." He internally winced; Vulcan's did not hesitate. The Embassy was right; Spock did not belong here.

Sarek continued, "I have arranged a ship to bring you to Earth (Sarek said 'Earth' like one might pronounce 'disease' or 'annoyance') where you will stay with acquaintances of your mother." It was always 'your mother'. Sarek did not speak her name anymore.

Spock did not know how to respond (really what could he say?) so he remained silent, eyes refusing to meet his father's. I-Chaya bumped him again, coarse fur brushing against his chilled skin, most logically hoping for more fallen nourishment.

"I-I will go pack my belongings." His voice was tiny, stutter barely noticeable, and he abruptly stood from the table. Spock's knobby knees crashed into the edge of his chair which in turn hit the table and bowls and plates crashed to the ground, sloshing their respective foodstuffs onto the ground. Still Sarek did not chastise his fumbling son, merely watched with hardened eyes as Spock bowed his head and rushed from the room.

Spock needed to meditate. His body was shaking uncontrollably and his thoughts would not calm. _Why would father let this happen, I cannot go live on Earth, Who will feed I-Chaya… and…I am not wanted._

His panicked eyes raked around his pristine room settling on the once holographic picture of Amanda that he'd kept. Sarek had not approved of it but Spock was stubborn (another undesirable human trait) so it sat on his desk alongside various school papers. _Where will I go to school on Earth?!_

He took a deep breath trying to calm his racing mind and turned his gaze on the window above his bed. It overlooked the garden and every morning at precisely 6:00 it let in a streak of deep golden red light that never failed to arouse Spock who was an extremely light sleeper. It would warm his cool skin and he would blink open his eyes and soak up the rays and he would be content.

Sometimes Vulcan displeased him (It was hot and dry and he was discriminated because of his heritage) but standing here now he was 99.98% sure that he didn't want to leave. Vulcan was his _home. _

If Amanda were still alive she wouldn't have allowed this to happen. She was just as stubborn as Spock (perhaps more so) and she'd been protecting Spock from the other Vulcan's since long before he could remember. He padded lightly over to his wardrobe mentally calculating the amount of belongings he would need on Earth. His whole body felt leadened, mind throwing up mental walls faster than he could count. He couldn't do this… he couldn't be expected to just pack up and _leave. _

Unable to conquer the growing fear he trembled once and sunk to the floor, crossing his legs in front of him. He _would _do this. For his mother if nothing else.

That's where Serek found him 2.9 hours later, Spock's thin face lax, eyes gently squeezed shut. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, in sync with the giant Sehlat curled around him. Sarek felt a burning sensation in the back of his mind and it took him a few moments to place the unfamiliar sensation. Amanda had spoke of it often when they fought. _Anger. _

He was angry and he did not know why. He cared for Spock but it was only logical that he follow the suggestions of his fellow Ambassadors. It was true that conceiving his son had been a mistake. One that both he and his wife had payed dearly for.

"Spock," He said louder than usual in attempt to arouse the boy, "It is time to depart."

Spock's hazel eyes snapped open and landed on his father's figure. They were emotionless; 100% Vulcan eyes.

* * *

James Tiberious Kirk, call me Jim, was settled between his two best friends, Bones and Scotty, when he got the call from his mom. Scotty had both hands clenched tight to the wheel of the antique car (it was the third time Jim had stolen it and this time it wasn't really even his fault! Scotty had begged to see the engine and-)

"Hey mom!" He said cheerfully, swatting Scotty's leg with his fist so that the 16 year old would know to pull over. He didn't think his mom would appreciate it if he had to shout over the sound of the wind.

"Jim, are you at home?" His mom's voice was tense, strained.

"Yup, why?" He lied.

"I'll be there in about half an hour…" She trailed off.

"You're on-planet?" Jim's baby-blues widened incredulously.

"Yes, Something's happened, I-I need to talk to you." Jim felt his chest constrict painfully and he signaled to Scotty to 's_tep on it'! _The last time 'something had happened' Frank had punched Sam so hard it sent the older boy to the hospital where he remained in a coma for a little over a week. 'Something's happened' was not a pleasant statement in the Kirk family, it was a drop everything and run sort of statement.

_"_I um…"

His mom had already hung up.

"What was that about?" Bones asked cautiously as Scotty whipped them around a dusty corner. "Dunno." Said Jim, tight lipped. His hands were fists, resting precariously on his knees. "I need to get home."

"On it, lad." Scotty was already on the road that would open up into Jim's squat house. The second they arrived (coming in from the back so that Frank wouldn't hear the car) Jim reached over Bones's lap and threw open the door, tumbling out. "Sorry guys, see you later!" He gasped, skidding on the dirty ground.

"Jim!" Scotty yelled after him exasperated, "What do you want me to do with the car?!" The blonde haired boy twisted his neck around and threw up his hands. "I DON"T KNOW! Put it in the garage." Bones face palmed and shook his head at Jim's impeccably _poor_ planning. Jesus, one of these days the kid was going to get arrested.

While the two boy's were in the back of the house putting the car away, Jim was wasting no time bursting into the small house and upsetting his stepfather who startled and spilled his boiling cup of coffee all over his grubby work shirt.

"What the FUCK boy?!"

"Soooorry." Jim drawled, not sorry at all, and showing no signs of his earlier panic. Frank was not one to show _weakness _around. "Where's Sam?"

"Upstairs." The piggish man seethed, grabbing a handful of towels to mop up the stain on his shirt. Jim let out a breathy sigh; his brother was okay. So what had his mom meant?

A tentative knock at the door revealed his friends looking windswept. "Everything okay Jim?" Bones muttered, ever the worrier. Jim shrugged since he didn't know.

"Well, I have to get home, lad…." Scotty trailed off and Jim shot him a grateful smile. They both understood that now wasn't really a great time to _hangout_.

"Thanks guys…I mean it." They nodded and set off down the road to their respective houses. Jim shut the door closed behind them and awaited his mom's arrival.

It didn't take long but by the time she came rushing in both he and Sam where waiting anxiously, perched on the couch. His brother had received his mom's call right before Jim did but didn't have anymore info. Basically the whole thing was just a huge clusterfuck of nerves.

"Boys…" Winona Kirk sighed as she took in the sight of her two blue eyed kids.

"What's wrong mom?" Jim cut in before she could say any more.

"Where's Frank?"

"Changing."

Winona lifted an eyebrow but didn't ask what for. They waited in tense silence until Frank ambled down the creaky staircase and Jim's mom told them all to sit.

"You won't remember Sam, but when you were younger I had a friend named Amanda-" Jim felt the need to interject (what did that have anything to do with them?) but he stayed quiet, shifting his weight uncomfortably. Winona continued, "She went to Vulcan (Yes Jim, the planet) and married a Vulcan ambassador. I had received news that she recently passed away and her son is in need of a home."

This time it was Sam who asked, 'What about her husband?" Winona swallowed and knitted her eyebrows together. "From what I understand he is still alive but unable to care for his son…or something like that. Since Amanda and I were close friends he reached out to me and asked if I were willing…" A pause, "And I said yes."

At this point Jim was rendered speechless, this was so totally _not _what he was expecting, not at ALL, but Frank seemed to have hung onto his vocabulary.

"I am not okay with this." His voice settled heavily over all of them like a thick fog cloud. "We barely have enough to support the brats you already have." Winona turned and gave him a small smile, "I couldn't say no."

"You could have."

"No… Amanda and I always joked about raising our kids together. When she moved to Vulcan I never thought I would get the chance to see her again but now…"

"If you allow this I won't stay." Frank threatened, small features growing stony.

"Then don't stay…" Winona's voice was barely a whisper but it made its point. "He'll be here in three days."


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys, sorry this took awhile, I got sick :/

Anyways, I got an anonymous review saying that I shouldn't add Uhura. That was before I wrote this chapter but she's only in it for like a quick sec okay? I'm not a huge fan of her butttt… ya know… she's still a character in star trek and I can't just, like, delete her from the story.

Also, yes this is a kirk/spock, it says it in the summary, and I don't really know what Tarsus IV is but i will look it up and decide.

THANK YOU for all the reviews, I wasn't really expecting any and they always make my day.

SO, on to the story! (Sorry it's sort of short, introductory chapter's annoy me. After this they'll get a bit longer)

:)

* * *

Spock sat aboard the shuttle ship, back ramrod straight, even though his small body was being tossed back and forth form turbulence. The ship had just left the atmospheric layer of Vulcan and through the windows he could see the last fleeting glances of his home.

The seatbelt rubbed painfully against his neck but he made no move to complain or remedy the situation. Spock was completely silent; not odd for a Vulcan but he still received many worried glances from the small ship's crew. He had to remind himself that it was because he _was not _a Vulcan and _everyone _knew it.

"Hey." A girl folded herself into the seat next to him, bringing her knees up to her chest and tucking her chin on top. She had long brown hair and eyes (not unlike Spock's) and she was wearing a smaller version of Starfleet's uniform.

"Hello." Spock replied because it was the polite thing to do.

"I'm Nyota. Nyota Uhura!" She grinned, pearly white teeth deeply contrasting with her dark skin.

"I am Spock." He looked away, thinking that that was the end of the conversation. He was a freak; why would someone like Nyota Uhura want to talk to him?

"I..um, I was thinking that maybe you would want to play chess with me? I mean you don't have to if you don't want to but I was getting bored and since no one else here is my age… So do you?"

Nyota spoke in_ very _fast standard and even though his mother had taught him the language he fumbled to understand what had been said. "I…I do not.."

"Oh! ni'droi'ik nar-tor!" (I am sorry) The girl suddenly exclaimed.

Spock felt his eyes widen, she knew Vulcan? "Tor ri nam-tor." (Do not be) Then, "Du d'thin Vuhlkansu, uf?" (You know Vulcan, how?)

"T'nash-veh Mekhu."(My mom) Nyota switched back to standard, although this time she spoke slower. "I know lot's of languages cause she's the communications officer. She took me to visit Vulcan with her." Spock nodded in understanding.

"So… Kal-toh?" (Chess?)

"I have to decline." Spock said quietly, looking down at his lap. Even though Nyota spoke Vulcan he didn't feel comfortable around her. The girl's face fell noticeably and she raised a hand to brush stray hair off her forehead. "O-okay… sorry for bothering you…"

Spock didn't have it in him to care.

Once the shuttle reached the giant starship that would take Spock to Earth he was shown to his quarters by a commander in a yellow shirt. They were relatively nice although nothing too fancy. He had a small compact bed and a desk with a computer and replicator propped on it. With another sweep around the room he discovered a door that lead to a connecting bathroom. He placed the bag containing his clothes under the bed and… and he didn't know what to do next.

He was alone (truly alone) for the first time in his life and he did not know how to proceed. There was no guide book for this sort of situation

He was starting to feel the panic from earlier which meant he had to strengthen his shields. He settled down on the floor, crossing his legs and took a deep breath. He tried to concentrate but his thoughts would not settle and without the ability to mentally link with his mother or father there was no way to calm them. Perhaps he should have agreed to the chess game, it would have distracted him for the time being.

He decided to just try and sleep instead.

After shedding his tunic and pulling the covers around him, Spock curled into a little ball. He let the side of his face press against the cool fabric of the pillow and his eyes fluttered shut. The poor boy wanted to go home so much that it _ached. _He might have not belonged on Vulcan but he certainly did not belong on Earth. He wrapped his arms around himself and felt something hot and sticky slide down his cheek. Tears… he was _crying. _Spock hadn't cried since he was four but he did nothing to stop the disgraceful liquid.

It was childish and so very not Vulcan but Spock just wanted someone to come in and tell him that it would be okay.

During the next three days Spock did not leave his quarters. Nyota had tried to comm him from the door twice but he did not answer. The boy in question was spending his time on the computer, working out equations, and trying to forget.

It was only after the captain's voice resounded throughout the ship ("We will be docking at Earth in half an hour") did the half Vulcan lift his head from the screen and rub at his tired eyes. His back ached and his head throbbed. Vulcan's didn't need much sleep, but doing without for three days was a bit too long. He rolled his shoulders, hoping to eliminate some of the tension and reached down under the bed to grab his bag. He figured that he should take a shower, but that would take too much time, so he gently padded out of the room to seek out the captain.

46.7 minutes later he was sitting on a bench right outside of starfleet's Iowa headquarters. His first impression of Earth was; cold. Also wet and damp and humid. And… not Vulcan. He huddled deeper into his tunic wishing that he had something warmer to put on.

"Excuse me, are you Amanda's son?" A woman's voice resounded from his left. He looked up slowly, curling his cold toes in his soft boots.

"I am."

The owner of the voice was a young blond woman; most likely 'Winona Kirk', the one that would become his new caretaker.

"I'm Winona." She said carefully, as though trying not to upset him (she would have to learn that he was _Vulcan_ and did not get 'upset').

"I am Spock." For the first time in his young life he did not add 'Son of Sarek'.

"It's nice to meet you." Winona smiled, taking in his dark hair and sharp eyes. Spock did not want to lie so he did not respond.

"Are you ready to go?"

"I am." He stood up and grasped his bag, following Winona to a beat up hovercar. She popped the trunk for him and he set his bag of possessions inside, then climbed into the passenger seat besides her. The drive to her house was quiet; she kept trying to ask him questions, and even though Spock answered them (he didn't want to be rude) they were mainly one worded answers and served for no larger conversations. After awhile she just let him be and he spent the remainder of the fairly long ride staring out the window.

The house Winona stopped the car by was much smaller than he was used to. His father was an Ambassador, and he had spent most of his life in luxury. So Spock was not prepared for the squat, dusty house that seemed to stare back at him, mockingly. He swallowed heavily, wanting to be back in his own room. He had to endure this; he had no other choice.

* * *

Frank hadn't been wrong when he pointed out the Kirk's financial status, or rather, lack of financial status. They weren't _dirt-poor, _okay maybe that was a bad way to put it, but it wasn't like they were starving or anything. Winona's job payed well enough and Jim didn't think that money would be an issue. It seemed more like the problem would be _space. _Their house wasn't exactly a hotel and there were only three bedrooms. One for Jim, one for Sam and one for their mom and Frank… well not anymore! Winona refused to back down on her offer so Frank had angrily barged his way out of the house, climbing into his car and speeding down the street. Jim wasn't sorry to see him go (although he would miss the car).

Winona decided that since the boy was around Jim's age they would share a room. Which meant he had to clean up. Which meant a lot of groaning and moping and avoiding the house. He needed time to think anyways. He wasn't opposed to the idea of the new boy who was apparently a Vulcan (or a least a half-Vulcan) which Jim thought was pretty cool. He'd never seen a Vulcan before since they didn't normally spend time on Earth and even if they did, Riverside Iowa was in the middle of dumbfuck nowhere.

He was currently squeezed in between the gravel and an old chevy Impala. Scotty was busy rummaging around in the hood while Jim was trying his best to change the oil. The Impala was a gift from Scotty's father who had told his son that if he could get the thing running he could have it. Scotty had asked Jim for help, and even though the blond boy knew very little about cars, he wasn't one to back down from a challenge.

"Hand me a smallish wrench, will yah?" He asked. Scotty tossed one under the car and Jim grabbed it, getting oil and other various car juices all over the rusty tool. "Thanks." He lifted the wrench and jammed it against the filter, barely rolling away in time as a stream of oil shot out. "Shit!" He exclaimed, pulling a face. "Old cars are so nasty." He stood up and wiped one greasy hand across his forehead. Scotty glanced up, taking in his friends oil-covered clothes and spiky hair and burst out laughing, pinpricks of tears pooling in the ducts of his eyes.

"Oh shut up! Jim barked and whacked him with the dirt dowel and rolled his eyes.

"You need a shower, lad." Scotty wrinkled his nose.

"Jus' let me finish!" Jim protested, trying to duck back under the car but Scotty held him back. "You're just going to make a bigger mess. The Vulcan kid's coming around today right? You should change."

"You sound like my mother." Jim grumbled.

"God knows you don't listen to her."

"She's never around to listen to anyways…" Jim's voice had gotten quieter and he quickly changed the subject. "I wonder what the Vulcan's like."

"Probably stuck up just like the rest o' them." Scotty mused, quick to judge.

"Maybe…hope not though, I mean, I have to share a room with him!"

"Bad luck, lad."

Jim shrugged leaning up against the hood of the car, ducking his head so that the hot sun wouldn't hurt his eyes. "I don't mind so much, it's just that I really don't know what was going on in mom's head when she decided this…"

"Do you think it's a bad idea?"

"Yeah… but what can I do about it?" Jim let out a little sigh and squinted in the direction of his house. His mom had just left for the starfleet base where she would pick up the Vulcan and bring him home. They'd get back in approximately two hours so Jim had some time. "Just let me finish the oil, then I'll shower." Scotty rolled his eyes at the puppy face Jim pulled on him then sighed. "Don't make a mess."

An hour and a forty five minutes later Jim was showered and dressed and relaxing on the couch. Sam was loitering upstairs since he was always a bit shy around new people. Jim wouldn't admit it but his heart was also beating faster than normal and his fingers were fluttering anxiously. He supposed it was normal though. He was about to technically gain a new family member, an alien for God's sake, and he didn't know much about Vulcan's. Nor did he have much time to prepare; three day's wasn't that long.

"Jim?" A soft voice called into the house; his mother.

"Yeah?" He resisted the urge to leap off the couch and go confront her and the Vulcan boy.

"We're back." Winona shuffled in and then twisted around to call, "It's alright, come on in and meet my son Jim."

He watched with slightly larger than normal eyes as a dark haired boy emerged from the kitchen and stopped next to his mother. "Jim, this is Spock." Winona said, placing a hand on the skinny boy's shoulder. 'Spock' gently shrugged her off and lifted his eyes from the ground and placed them on Jim instead.

"Hello Jim." His voice was quiet and distant, like he wasn't really there . Jim smiled anyways. "Hey, Spock." He felt awkward, half sitting, half standing, and not really sure what to do. "You want me to show you upstairs?" He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"That would be appreciated." Spock's odd way of speaking left Jim at a loss for words.

"Uhh, come on then." He waved a hand and walked over to the stairs before he realized that Spock was lugging around a huge suitcase. "I can carry that for you if you want." Jim offered, supposing that he should probably act like a good host.

"My strength is sufficient enough." Spock's eyes narrowed and Jim gulped under the scrutinizing stare."

He certainly didn't look strong enough. He was pretty thin with huge dark bags under his eyes indicating a lack of sleep.

"I didn't mean it like that." Jim said hastily, "I just meant it to be nice…"

"Oh…" Spock looked down and Jim could swear that he was blushing a faint green. "Then I suppose I will allow you." He held out the bag to Jim and the blond boy took it slightly grunting under the weight. "What do you have in here, rocks?!"

Spock's dark eyes widened slightly. "I do not understand to what you are referring. Is it an Earth custom to place rocks in one's luggage?"

Jim stifled a laugh, bright eyes crinkling around the edges. "No, I meant it's heavy."

"Oh." Spock said again and fell silent, not offering an explanation. Jim shrugged and started up the stairs, bag hitting the edge of every step.

"It's probably not as nice as you're used to." Jim said, pushing open the door to his room (he'd been shocked to find out that the man Amanda had married was an _Ambassador)._

_"_It shall suffice." Spock said quietly, raking his eyes around the small room. Earlier Jim had shoved an extra mattress in corner for his guest but he was planning on letting Spock take his bed. For some odd reason, he _really _wanted to please this odd Vulcan boy.

"You can have the bed, I'll take the mattress." He told Spock, tossing the boy's bag on his red comforter.

"You mean, we are sharing a room?" Spock's eyes widened a quarter of a fraction and his cheeks turned a bright green.

"Yeah…problem?"

The Vulcan looked down and seemed to be arguing with himself. It was a moment before he lifted his head (although he would still not meet Jim's eyes). "Privacy is very important to Vulcan's." He muttered.

"Oh." It was something Jim hadn't considered. "Well if it helps at all, I'm not at home much…"

"I offended you, I apologize."

"Don't." Jim said. "It's not a big deal."

They both stood around a bit awkwardly, not sure what to do, but then they heard Winona calling them downstairs. "Dinner boys!"

Jim heard Spock's stomach growl and watched as the boy blushed slightly again. "You like pasta?"


End file.
